


Piano Man

by hotmilkycitrus



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Eventual Smut, Humor, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, don't let the title fool you this is gonna be one hell of a ride, musician au, please bare with me this is my first sp fanfic, will add more tags once the saucy bits come along ohoho~
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-07-10 20:18:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotmilkycitrus/pseuds/hotmilkycitrus
Summary: Tweek Tweak based his life on one dream: to move to California and pursue his career as a professional musician. Unfortunately, Tweek is a victim of manipulation. His anxiety makes him an easy target for those surrounding him to take advantage of, and the trauma that surfaces from these experiences cause a setback to his progress.Craig Tucker is a happy-go-lucky man who allows life to carry him wherever it pleases, for he has no interest in the future. All he does is jam out with his roommates by day and works as a bartender by night. His deadpan attitude remains unfazed, until a certain blonde shows up for a bar gig that was originally intended for one of his best friends.Mesmerized by the talented pianist before him, only two things were on his mind from that night forward: to help this man succeed, and pray that he was a part of it.





	1. Nine'o'clock on a Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction posted on ao3, so I'm pretty excited about it! I've had this musician au for south park stowed away on my laptop for months now, and I finally decided to whip out the storyboard and pump something out. Sorry if it's a little slow at first, but I promise it'll get more interesting - after all, creek is guaranteed ;)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter and are willing to await the next! Any feedback and support is greatly appreciated!
> 
> Songs for this chapter:  
> Piano Man - Billy Joel (of course)  
> New York Jazz Lounge - Bar Jazz Classics
> 
> Check me out on tumblr (mostly shitposts): @hotmilkycitrus

_“It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday_  
 _And the manager gives me a smile_  
_'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see  
_ _To forget about life for a while_ ”

Billy Joel fills the walls of The Red Rum Tavern with a mellifluous atmosphere, putting its patrons into a trance as they enjoyed their alcoholic beverages and quick drags from cheap cigarettes. The stagnant stench of the smoke is concealed within a collaboration of noxious odours, twisted in an artistic way, forming curls in the gloom that are illuminated only by the age-speckled bar lights. It was dark and wood-paneled, so it had great small-town bar ambience, and it was never too crowded. Along the wall was every hue of amber liquid in their inverted bottles, illuminating a gorgeous gold by the glow of Colorado in the evening. Through the windows, the diamonds of lead panes, trickles the sallow light of street-lamps. A sharp smell of drink wafts throughout, like a thicket of black plumes bellowing from the windows of a burning house. There’s even a hint of sick tainting the fragrance of the room.

But that was the beauty of it all - It was always a den of debauchery. No one entered The Red Rum Tavern with anything wholesome in mind.

Except for the music.

It wasn’t just the highlights the jukebox offered for the old souls, for the crowd was typically young - university students for the most part. There was the occasional karaoke session, which would draw in the cute college girls. But none of these could compare to the music fresh new faces brought to the customers.

For this particular bar was a birthplace for aspiring musicians.

Rebecca Tucker was the mastermind behind the The Red Rum Tavern. Alongside her cousin Craig Tucker and his childhood friend Clyde Donovan, the trio set out to develop an environment dedicated for encouraging creative minds alike to share their talents with curious patrons, if not the whole world.

Rebecca (or “Red,” as everyone referred her) and Craig were currently chatting from opposite ends of the bar counter, with the male counterpart of the two cousins slouching in a bar stool while the redhead thumbed through their tips they collected throughout this moderately paced shift. Clyde emerged from the back with a tray of beverages, passing everyone a hefty glass of whiskey sour. The three coworkers simultaneously took a swig of the burning alcohol, continuing to enjoy the comforting atmosphere that was their tavern.

“This is, what, the fifth time someone played ‘Piano Man’ on the juke today?” Clyde piped in, interrupting the soothing silence they had established a moment ago.

Craig smirked, twirling side to side in his barstool as he raised an eyebrow in a cocky fashion. “Sick of the classics, Donovan?”

“You know damn well that isn’t true, Tucker!”

Red chuckled to herself, rolling her eyes as the two men took turns poking fun at one another. The redhead taps a perfectly manicured nail against the crystal clear ice bobbing in her beverage as she leans against the counter, her navy sequined dress hugging her figure as she stared at the duo.

Clyde had always been told he was a beautiful child, and that ventured over well into adulthood. His hair, dark and lustrous, is rich like mahogany and his hazel eyes are large and bold, framed with thick lashes. A shiny varnish catches merely light around his locks, but the depths of that deep chestnut brown reflected all the radiance of his smile. Everything about him is symmetrical, most obviously his cheekbones, but it extends to the way he smiles. It appeared some of his baby fat still lingered in his cheeks, but that adorable softness was what added so much emphasis on his jovial character - mostly that childish grin of his.

But if Clyde’s warm smile didn’t catch someone’s attention, then surely the gorgeous noirette next door would.

Craig was all looks. Sure, the man was a closed book, but damn if his cover wasn’t appealing. He had jet black hair, always combed back to reveal his flawless hairline. His eyes were a mesmerising deep ocean blue, flecks of silvery light glistening in those perfect orbs like constellations. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. His smooth skin was an olive hue, sun-kissed despite residing in the frigid temperatures of Colorado. He had dark eyebrows, which always seem sloped downwards permanently in a serious expression. His usual deadpan face was now replaced by a playful smile, thin lips parted slightly to reveal his pearly whites.

Red nodded approvingly to herself as she admired her handiwork. The two contrasting men provided the perfect balance to her establishment. Clyde contributed to the heart and soul of the tavern with his personality, Craig attracted the customers with his pretty face, and Red herself was the brains behind it all.

The redhead slithered her way into the conversation with a smug grin knitted onto her matching scarlet lips. “Billy Joel, huh? I’ll be sure to request plenty of his songs once the next gig starts.”

Clyde choked on his drink, puffing his cheeks out towards the snickering cousins. “Jimmy? Doing a cover of ‘Piano Man?’ Please, Red, I’m in hell…”

Their boss tilted her head in confusion, taking another sip of her whiskey sour. “Jimmy isn’t booked for tonight.”

Now it was the men’s turn to flash questioning looks.

“Saturday, 7:30… Jimmy always comes in hopes of earning some shits and giggles from one of his skits, then finishes off with some acoustic covers. Right?” Craig rehearsed the schedule off the top of his head like it was part of his daily routine, to which Red only replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

“He booked a different gig somewhere big, ‘cuz apparently now he has an agent.” Red hummed, purring to herself like a proud mother. “Can you believe it? Our little Jimmy is off to the big leagues, and it all started in this bar.”

“Our first prodigy!” Clyde cheered, raising his drink. The other two followed suite, clinking their glasses together as their own celebration towards their first success. After downing the rest of their whiskey sour Craig was the first to initiate the previous topic once more.

“So who is doing the gig tonight?”

Red rolled her head back in contemplation, gesturing for Clyde to prepare more drinks. Once she recalled who was arriving she snapped her fingers. “Remember Kenny and Butters?”

“McCormick and Stotch?” Craig questioned, to which the redhead answered with a nod.

“Yeah! Turns out, the duo finally found the pianist they needed in order to dabble in jazz, and after a couple of months of practice, they’re ready to perform again!” Red sniffed, wiping away a fake tear from her copper-dusted eyes. “Honestly, I couldn’t feel more honored to be the first one they call to book a gig.”

Craig snorted. “Their third member wouldn’t happen to be blonde, would he?”

“You’re a sharp one, Tucker.” His boss chuckled, instantly snatching a drink off Clyde’s tray once he returned. “Blondes are your favorite, aren’t they?~”

The noirette rolled his eyes and flicked the snickering redhead’s wrist. “You got me there.”

He had to admit, he actually did find blondes attractive. Kenny and Butters were incredibly good looking, and he had been in a serious relationship with a dirty blonde a couple years back. Hell, Bradley Biggles, a random hookup from last night, was blonde! Craig would be lying if he said he wasn’t anticipating the arrival of this new pianist.

Red must have caught on to his pensive contemplation because the next moment she was leaning over the countertop to whisper into his ear. “You know, Kenny told me this guy is talented enough to become the next Elton John.”

The raven raised an eyebrow, taking a large gulp of his beverage. “What, a pianist legend?”

The redhead’s lips curled up into a sly grin. She began to lower her voice into a more sultry tone. “A _gay_ pianist legend.”

Craig choked on his drink.

* * *

The wind pushes on Butters’ Honda CRV to no avail as the cheerful blonde maneuvered through Denver’s afternoon traffic. Tweek acknowledged that they were going forward, and nothing but a blessed tragedy can change that. The tires make their monotonous hiss over the rain-washed highway and the outside air that manages to snake its way through the filters is meadowsweet. All around and through the dirty tinted windows, there are endless rows of buildings towering above, casting an ominous shadow onto the bland city. Inside this tin box of a vehicle the world outside continues like some choreographed dance, but without the soul it should have.

Butters fiddles with the radio to fill the trio’s ears with the latest popular tunes, while Kenny smokes through a carton of American Spirits in the passenger seat. Tweek closes his eyes as he presses his cheek onto the cold surface of the window, feeling the gentle rise and fall of the road reverberate throughout the cabin. The anxious blonde preferred administering his imagination to calming his nerves, and it often transported him to a land brimming with promise.

_Tweek bestowed his gaze to the far off horizon. The flaring hues of the sun melted into the California sky and ocean like a divine painting. The forever stretching sea is masked with an apricot colour, that beautiful umber flowing into turquoise._

_Through narrowed eyes, he watches as each wave overlaps one another, sending the white bubbling crests descending and masking the shore with the transparent fading water. Meanwhile, music fills the air like the waves filling holes in the beach sand. Tweek’s hands dance effortlessly across the keys of his piano, crystal globes of sweat strolling down his temples as he performs for the festival before him. Some react to the melody, to his soothing voice, while others continue to chatter, but it always speaks to them in some manner. A lively tempo can lift them, elevate the spirit, or move them to dance, while a slow one can relax the mood. Before the notes filled the air every person was an island, with it they all feel the same tidal flows and the beginnings of togetherness feels warm._

“Tweekers?”

Tweek snapped back to reality, jolting at the sudden touch on his knee. Kenny had yanked him out of his fantasy. Acknowledging his disturbance, he proceeded to flash the blonde an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for ruining your nap, but we’re here.” The rugged blonde clarified, grinning broadly towards the startled man behind him. When Tweek still appeared unenthusiastic Kenny proceeded to rub gentle circles into his knee before patting it encouragingly.  

“Hey, tonight is gonna be a good night, alright? Without you our band would have no soul.” Kenny reassured. “I promised you a clean slate and I guarantee this fresh new start of yours is going to be incredible.”

Tweek couldn’t help but smile sheepishly, especially when Butters tilted his head towards the back to nod in agreement. He appreciated his partners’ motivation, he really did. They were the reason he finally agreed to play music in public.

He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for intruding on the other two blondes’ band. Guilt pooled into his stomach at the thought of taking advantage of their kindness, and he vowed to make their performance worthwhile.

Tweek inhaled deeply as the three men stepped out of the car. He doesn’t dare to imagine what is in store, but it isn't as bad as things could be... _have_ been. This ride, this band, this gig - they have found a use for Tweek and somewhere inside that bar is the answer to what that could be.

* * *

There was no denying it: Craig was a gay man.

Red was the one that confirmed these suspicions back in high school, having been acquaintances with the numerous lady flings her cousin dismissed without any interest. She wasn’t oblivious; she definitely caught onto Craig’s longing gazes at handsome men, that any straight man would direct towards an attractive woman. When their senior year crept to its closure, she finally convinced the raven to stop denying his sexuality and to finally commit to a relationship that wasn’t one-sided. After graduation Craig finally came out to his surprisingly accepting family and successfully developed a long lasting relationship throughout past college.

Although he had parted ways with his previous lover, Craig was ironically in a better position than he had ever been during his adult years. He had nothing planned for his future and he couldn’t honestly care less.

Craig swirled the whiskey in his glass, listening to the soft “clink” of the ice cubes. Already the worries of his day were beginning to fade, despite possessing none.

His entire existence just felt at ease.

Just watching its gentle vortex was hypnotizing enough. There was no midlife crisis controlling his emotions, no partner constantly fretting over his absence, no family . It was his one vice and he intended to make a virtue of it, savor it, not race to the bottom of the glass. Once the liquid settled, he brought it to his chapped lips and let the bitter taste sit in his mouth a while before swallowing. He closed his eyes, dwelling only on the flavor.

God, it was so good...

He retuned his ears to the classical tunes that had been playing from the jukebox a few moments ago, only this time there was saxophone in it; how that instrument arrived in his brain seeming to bypass his ears he didn't know, but suddenly it was there. Craig smiled widely when he spotted Butters capturing everyone’s attention with an adderley trill from his alto, and chuckled to himself when Kenny purposefully wedged a spare drumstick between the door to keep it propped open and attract any passerbys.

Craig could recognize the two blondes in a heartbeat, and differentiating the two wasn’t any more difficult. Butters’ lush hair was, no pun intended, a buttery gold, both the silky flow and soft consistency resembling the creamy substance. The top of his uppercut was like a bed of marigolds dancing in the breeze, loose strands of gold tickling the side of his face and barely concealing the cataract in his left eye. He adorned thick rimmed leopard print glasses, the mild brown brought out the vibrant hue in his baby blue eyes. They paired perfectly with his pastel pink sweatshirt and gray sweatpants that only further emphasized his innocent outlook - despite his aura resembling that of a sexpot saxophone player.

Next door to Butters’ sat his rugged doppelganger behind a burnt umber cladded drum set. Kenny possessed a messy mop of sandy blonde hair atop his head, his caramel tinted locks considered alluring despite being unkempt and greasy. There was a copper stud pierced into his nose, the shimmering jewel matching the sparse freckles that already painted his face. The blonde even wore a thin streak of eyeliner to bring out his deep blue eyes, the field of indigo trapped in those orbs enough to make anyone swoon. His notorious orange parka was tied around his waist with the green question mark tattoo on his arm now exposed.

However as Craig’s eyes drifted over towards Tweek, he couldn’t help but be intrigued. The new blonde member possessed the delicate features of Butters, yet retained the arduous sturdiness of Kenny. He was a perfect combination of the two, thus providing the perfect balance needed to complete the band. The raven couldn’t help but smile to himself, allowing the handsome stranger to sear himself deep into his mind’s eye. Closing his eyes Craig leaned back in his bar stool, allowing himself to become lost under saxophone notes and soft taps of the cymbals that jumped and danced in the murky cavern.

For Butters and Kenny their familiar faces earned them countless friendly slaps on the back as customers flowed in. But when Tweek entered the tavern, heads turned. He didn't just come to play. When Tweek listened to others, his troubles melted into the smoky haze of the lounge. For him, jazz had to be live; there had to be a whole bunch of people right there laughing, joking and dancing. Otherwise it was just music - nothing to keep him engaged in the moment.

About an hour passed when Butters’ and Kenny decided it was time to take a break. Heading over to the bar to treat themselves to refreshments. They were whispering discreetly to Red as they sipped on their share of aged scotch, casting sidewards glances to an unsuspecting Clyde. Craig rolled his eyes towards their evil scheming before allowing his eyes to rest on the third blonde.

Tweek however, didn’t budge. Glued to his seat as his gaze never left the piano before him. Craig noticed that the blonde refused to take a breather and furrowed his brow. Surely he was exhausted, wasn’t he?

When the two members returned to their positions, they proceeded to improvise with ease on stage, the music dancing out of their instruments in the swinging rhythm. Craig’s foot began to tap as his head involuntarily swayed. Man did he love that sax, deep as the soul, soothing, sweet as honey pie. It surged through him, purging his hidden blues and replacing them with a feeling of lightness. Like he could live in that moment. Live for the jazz.

Though, the moment came to an abrupt halt when Butters blasted another squeaky trill to capture everyone’s attention.

“Good evenin’, fellas! Glad you could have us!” The upbeat blonde cheered into the microphone on the stand before him, earning a couple of hollers from their mediocre audience. Red and Clyde in particular whistled loudly. Butters bowed, to which Kenny stood up and performed an overdramatic curtsy before making his way over the the microphone.

“While we’re more than delighted to be performing for you, tonight is not about us.” Kenny wrapped his arm around Butters’ shoulder and gestured towards the pianist next to them with his free hand. “Tonight is about the new addition to this team. Without him, there would be no heart, no soul… no sick jazz, for God’s sake!”

As the customers chuckled among one another, Kenny flashed Red a sly grin and winked. The redhead returned the wink and proceeded to turn her attention towards Clyde. The brunette narrowed his eyes at his boss, bracing himself for whatever silent contract had been signed against his will.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for our piano man, Tweek Tweak!”

Applause erupted, drowning out the sound of Clyde’s head slamming against the bar countertop and Red’s uncontrollable laughter. Tweek took Butters’ nod of approval as a cue to begin. He inhaled sharply to calm the anxious tremors in his hands. Closing his eyes as he gradually exhaled out of his nose, his fingers instantly prancing along the correct keys on the grand piano before him. All conversation had been sucked clean from the air as soon as Tweek started playing, completely shocked by the sheer accuracy and talent the man possessed.

_“It's nine o'clock on a Saturday_   
_The regular crowd shuffles in_  
 _There's an old man sitting next to me_  
 _Makin' love to his tonic and gin”_

Butters had taken a moment after imitating the harmonica with his saxophone to take a quick swig of his scotch, choking on the drink briefly after as the specific “old man” verse was directed towards him. He elbowed the pianist playfully, to which Tweek replied by poking his tongue out - a sight that somehow managed to make Craig’s heart flutter.

At this point, those who were out on the streets began to pour into the bar, curious as to who the mysterious angel behind the keys is.

_“Sing us a song, you're the piano man_   
_Sing us a song tonight_   
_Well, we're all in the mood for a melody_ _  
And you've got us feelin' alright”_

The bar was slammed at this point, so packed, in fact, that anyone outside gave up trying to get in and peered in through the windows. Kenny was thrilled to have attracted such an enormous crowd, cheering after the chorus as he twirled a drumstick in his hand and sang along with their audience.

Craig was breathless. This performance, this _man_ \- he was no ordinary musician. Before when it was just their jazz session, Tweek played the piano in hopes of evoking some sort of reaction to keep the atmosphere alive. He played the music to entertain others and thrived off of their enjoyment.

But this, this wasn’t just for the audience… Tweek was also playing for himself. The ecstatic smile plastered on his face, his nimble fingers dancing across the keys, the sweat staining his hairline as the lyrics slipped from his supple lips in a booming tone, it all spoke volume of the blonde’s own self gratification.

He wasn’t just singing Billy Joel… he was singing as though he had become Billy Joel.

And there was nothing more attractive to Craig than a man who learned to enlighten himself before others.

_“Now John at the bar is a friend of mine_ _  
_ _He gets me my drinks for free”_

This verse was undoubtedly directed towards the trio by the bar. Tweek flashing a toothy grin as Red and Clyde raised their glasses with a whistle. Craig repeated the action with a snicker, his sights focused on the array of pearly whites that could disappear at any moment.

_“And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke_ _  
_ _But there's someplace that he'd rather be”_

Craig could’ve sworn Tweek’s gaze shifted towards the noirette as soon as he sang those words. His suspicions were soon confirmed as the blonde’s gaze softened, his half lidded eyes casting a melancholy glow as a warm smile crept upon his lips. His expression was nothing more than a facade caked over his buried anguish and sorrow, and Craig couldn’t help but feel his heart swelling towards the next lines of the song. Tweek trying desperately not to crack his voice under the pressure of tears threatening to well up in his eyes.

_“‘Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star_ _  
_ _If I could get out of this place’"_

That one verse was enough to seal the deal for Craig. The glint of hope in Tweek’s eyes, his desperate act for approval and escape, was all confirmed in that one moment. The noirette couldn’t peel his eyes away from him, yearning so badly to stand up and drag the blonde away to wherever his lifelong dream awaited him; to bring him the happiness he painfully faked every aching moment.

Really, he was mannerly enough to avoid gawking at random strangers. But the man before him, radiating with nothing but grace, had put him in a trance.

Tweek was mesmerizing in every way. The faint glimmer of the afternoon sun ghosted over his pale skin, a creamy richness that was undoubtedly smooth to touch. His lush mother lode-gold hair was combed back into a loose, low rising man bun that extended down to the fair stubble outlining his narrow jawline and lucious lips. The Roman nose he sported complemented his prominent cheekbones, the structure of his face both androgynous and attractive. He was handsome in an understated way, his moss green cardigan loose yet hugging his form in a way that exaggerated how slim his waist is. His black jeans were comfortably tight (both for Tweek, and Craig’s viewing pleasure), outlining his long, slender legs as the red Vans on his feet tapped to the rhythm of the piano. The only blemish he possessed, which Craig protested shouldn’t even be qualified as one, were the thousands of freckles that dusted across his milky complexion.

But what truly mesmerized Craig were those gorgeous green eyes.

Tweek’s eyes were the glimmering color of a clean cut emerald, sparkling in the dim light of the bar like a fresh sheen of morning dew. They were the kind of green that pushed its way through the piles of gritty snow to remind you that spring was coming. That churning, passionate green that the ocean turns during a storm. The color of the forest after it rains. That green color that brings hope and life no matter what has happened.

And looking into those eyes, the raven could see it, and Tweek knew that he could.

Because when those very eyes shifted and finally acknowledged Craig’s presence, a surge of understanding had calmed and further mystified him at the same time. From the moment he first laid his eyes on him, he knew he could never be his.

But damn if the piano man didn’t ignite the flame in the noirette’s empty soul once more.


	2. Cursed Missed Opportunities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:  
> Sunday Morning - Maroon 5  
> No Roots - Alice Merton  
> ABBA - Summer Night City  
> Coldplay - Clocks
> 
> Check out my main tumblr! (art blog is currently in the works): hotmilkycitrus

“Tweek… _Tweak?”_

Craig’s identical raven-haired roommate, Stan, was sprawled out on the leather sofa in their apartment, plucking random strings on his acoustic guitar. He would twist his fingers in all sorts of odd shapes to form chords around the maple wood fretboard and, once or twice, would slide his hand up across the higher frets. The guitar was a tier below basic, but what Stan did with it was far from ordinary. He was a genius, everyone said so. It's heavy wood was satisfying in the hand and its tones were rich and full. As far as Stan was concerned it was the best brand of guitar in the world. The sweet refrain of the acoustic guitar spoke a musical language to the soul, a strumming sound that had a hypnotic soothing quality to it.

“Yeah! I know it seems strange, but… God, you should’ve seen him play…” Craig flopped down onto the couch next to Stan, the other noirette slinging his legs over the back of the couch in order to make room. Stan couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, amused by the dreamy haze that clouded his once deadpan roommate’s eyes.

“I hate to break it to you, but I can _guarantee_ you any pianist knows how to play Piano Man.” Stan teased, an eyebrow wiggling as he anticipated Craig’s reaction that proved he had successfully provoked him.

“Well you see, smartass, it wasn’t just the fact that he could play it flawlessly.” Craig spat back, though the goofy grin plastered on his face argued that he was not angry at all. He proceeded to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “It was the way he played for everyone… for himself… It was like he understood the beauty of music, and that in return made _him_ beautiful as well.”

“Craig, you sound like a poet.”

The two ravens whipped around and instantly recognized the bass-deep voice in the corridor as their third roommate Token. The dark colored man in lavender cashmere pajamas towered over the couch as he approached, peering down on the two other men with a soft gaze and a kind, toothy smile.

There wasn’t just one remarkable feature that Token retained. He was the tallest, biggest, most attractive, and definitely the most mature. He had broad shoulders that spoke of strength and intimidation, but it quickly contrasted with a reassuring grin and deep azure eyes that seemed to be tinted a lush violet. From them came an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness.

“I’ve never heard you speak so beautifully about a stranger. Could this be a sign?~” Token chuckled wholeheartedly, folding his arms as he gawked at the flustered man before him. Before Craig could retort, a skinny figure sprinted into the room and hopped onto Token’s back, gasping as he clung to the colossus like a baby monkey.

“What’s this? Tucker has caught… _feelings?!?”_

As though Token’s presence didn’t make the room diverse enough, the small bundle of energy known as David came barging in. The short hispanic man always had the ability to uplift any mood, and instantly all eyes were on him as he graced the room with his jovial presence.

Token snorted as he quickly shook David off of him. His tawny-beige skin was caked in flour and his russet hair was matted with batter, indicating that their breakfast was still in progress.

David was almost a foot shorter than Token as he bounced on his feet, tapping on the back of the couch like a drum as he stared at the embarrassed roommate before him. To David, everything was a drum. He drummed on the kitchen counter and he drummed on the car dashboard. He drummed on upturned pots and pans and he drummed on his thighs when there was nothing else available.

Craig buried his face in his hands as the two men leaned over the couch, two sets of wide eyes burning holes into the back of the noirette’s head as they stared at him intensely. Stan smirked devilishly as he decided to participate in the teasing, nudging Craig’s shoulder with his foot.

“It’s called having an _interest_ , is that such a crime?” Craig grumbled through gritted teeth, which in turn induced a celebratory high five between Token and David. Stan only snorted, patting the other raven’s back reassuringly with the heel of his foot. Suddenly, black fumes seeped from the kitchen and began shrouding the room in a pungent smell. David leapt away from the couch and dashed towards the kitchen, a barrage of _mierda!_ ’s shouted repeatedly as the man fled the scene. A very disappointed Token tilted his head back as he groaned, calmly trailing after their reckless roommate. Once those two had disappeared, Stan straightened his posture and leaned over close to Craig, bringing his voice down to a whisper.

“You’re serious about this, huh?”

Craig began to grind his teeth irritatingly, mistaking Stan’s tone as one coated with mockery.

“Shut up, Marsh, we’re done with this topic.”

The other noirette raised his hands up in defense. “All teasing aside, dude. I think you can see him again tonight… _if_ you really are interested.”

Craig was all ears.

“You mentioned he was a part of Kenny and Butters’ group?” Craig nodded, which Stan took as a signal to continue. “Well, I’m going to watch Wendy and Bebe’s gig at Underground Denver tonight, and they told me their band was going to be collaborating with them. Maybe Tweek will be there?”

Without even acknowledging it himself, Craig’s eyes had widened at the prospect of being able to encounter the mysterious pianist again, and this alone mustered a smirk from Stan. He reclined back against the armrest of the couch, tapping his foot against Craig’s upper arm as he cast the other raven a devilish look.

He had the man dangling from a thread, now he just needed to ensure he committed.

“Of course, the only reason I didn’t invite any of you guys before was because I knew you all had to work tonight… but I’m sure Red wouldn’t mind letting her dear cousin off the hook if she knew he was doing it all for the sake of _looove~”_ Stan serenaded his last phrase, chuckling to himself as Craig vigorously rubbed his face out of embarrassment. “Whaddya say?”

As badly as he wanted to tag along, Craig actually hesitated. It had been years since he had been dedicated to a serious relationship. Craig enjoyed being single, the freedom. His future was as bland as his everyday monotony; jamming out with his roommates by day and mixing cocktails with his cousin at night. It was simple, but his daily routine brought him all the comfort he needed to be satisfied with his life.

But as he pondered on the topic more, he realized that stepping out of his comfort zone actually seemed like challenge to him. Craig Tucker, the most stoic man in town, was scared of change - and that fear only intensified at the thought of a single man that he knew little to nothing about. The fact that Tweek had so much power over his feelings puzzled him, and he was stunned that he had been struck down from his pedestal of solitude so easily.

Yet, it excited him… and he wanted more.

Craig finally came up with a conclusion; repetition is meant to be broken, and he had to suck it up and make that a priority today.

Sucking in a deep breath, Craig nodded in agreement.

“I’m in”

Stan grinned. Resurfacing Craig Tucker’s love life? Success.

“Then it’s settled.”

* * *

Red propped herself against the bar counter, her scarlet hair cascading over one shoulder of her navy blazer. She tilted her head to one side, pushing out her red lips just a little. She wasn't drunk yet but she liked to give the impression that she was. If anything, she was too sober for her liking and yearned for a single drop of alcohol to touch her tongue as soon as possible.

Too bad the dirty blonde before her was making that task difficult to complete.

The tinkle of glass on glass as Kenny mixes his unconsumed cocktail was driving Red nuts, the man bombarding her with questions rather than at least attempting to get drunk. The redhead merely provided half-assed responses and gulped, pushing her lips in a flat line as she stares at the swirling liquor. When she raises heavily made up eyes at the man slumped in the stool across from her, Red knows she’s in for a long night. Kenny meets her gaze with the smile of one who knows the upper hand is his and lights up a cigarette to add to the hazy cloud, lingering, spiralling in the stagnant air. Red curls one of her feet behind her ankle, dangling her high heel; yet her face stays aloof, disinterested.

The tension was finally broken as the entrance doors were thrust open, the hinges squealing as though they are a warning of their rust and age. Both adults whirl towards the entry of a new patron, only to both grin broadly at the sight of Craig. Red opened her mouth to greet her cousin, only to be interrupted by Kenny flinging his arms up in the air and cheering for the noirette’s arrival.

“The man of the hour, just who I was looking for!”

Despite being the loudest being in the room, the raven had yet to acknowledge Kenny’s existence and proceeded to confront Red behind the counter. The blonde shrugged, returning to idly stirring his beverage as he stared at the two with piqued interest.

“Red, you know I have yet to take a sick day. Just this once, can I _please_ have today off?” Craig clasped his hands around the Red’s, the redhead surprised by the genuine plea glossed over in his eyes. Red raised an eyebrow, a playful smile dancing across her lips as she removed her hands from Craig’s to rest them on her hips.

“I dunno, if this is a _serious_ emergency, I just might consider it.”

“Uhhh… your baby cousin is finally growing up?”

Red gasped. “Your balls finally dropped?!”

“Close.” Craig leaned in to whisper into his cousin’s ear. “You remember that pianist-?”

The raven didn’t even have to finish his sentence before Red started hopping up and down like a giddy teenager. “My boy, you’ve finally done it! I couldn’t bare keeping you away from your dreams. Please, please, take all the time you need!”

Red lunged forward and hugged her cousin tightly, attempting to lift the man off his feet - which was unsuccessful due to their noticeable height difference. When she pulled away, Red’s maroon-tinted cheeks rivaled the color of her hair as she giggled to herself.

Craig couldn’t help but smile warmly towards Red’s enthusiasm. It was moments like these that proved his family was strongly supportive of his relationships, and that alone was an amazing feeling.

“Ha, but in all seriousness, I’ll ask Scott if he can cover for you. Whiny bastard has been complaining that he isn’t getting enough hours anyways.” Red chuckled to herself, returning to her previous position slumped against the counter. “Now, are you busy right now or can I at least get you something as a small job well done?”

Before Craig could reply, a hand clapped down on his shoulder.

“Allow me.”

Both Tuckers had forgotten that there was another human in their vicinity, and when Craig whirled around he nearly choked on his own breath when he recognized Kenny. The dirty blonde chuckled, returning a flirty gaze to the redhead behind the counter.

“A’ight babe gimme two steak and chips and two ales, and a drink for yourself." Kenny added his last request with a wink, turning his gaze back to Craig and patting the stool next to him as an invitation.

“Fucking finally.” Red reached out and gulped down Kenny’s untouched cocktail in one swig, shaking her head vigorously and tossing the glass aside before retreating to the back. The blonde couldn’t help but whistle as the woman walked away with a sway in her hips.

“What a woman.”

“Don’t even bother, that fox is taken.”

Kenny snorted towards the remark, Craig snickering to himself as well as he claimed the spot next to the blonde. It had been awhile since he had spoken to the blonde as a friend rather than a fellow musician, and he couldn’t help but pat him on the shoulder as he admired his success.

“Hey, awesome performance last night. You guys were fantastic.”

Kenny, however, didn’t reciprocate the sentiment.

“Funny, I didn’t think you were aware that there was any percussion at all.” Kenny tilted back in his stool, tapping his index finger against his chin condescendingly. “Wait, that’s a lie… piano counts as percussion, doesn’t it?”

“Huh…?”

“Oh, _I’m_ sorry. It’s just that red hots there told me you couldn’t take your eyes off of Tweek.”

_Damn it, Red._

Oh well, if Kenny was aware of it, then there was not point in denying it now. Craig scratched the stubble along his jawline, a faint blush crept across his face.

“Yeah, he’s… something…”

Kenny grinned somewhat smugly, absorbing all of Craig’s answers as he gave him the information he expected.

“He said the same thing.”

Craig choked, a strange wheezing noise trapped in his throat. “Really??”

Kenny chewed impatiently on his lip, the ferocious glare in his eyes indicating that he was ready to get his point across already. Craig was reacting just as he had predicted, and now he had to smack some sense into that thick skull of his.

“Say, do you think Tweek’s cuter than Gary? Chris? _Bradley?”_ Kenny spat out the last name with a mouthful of venom, surprising Craig with the fact that he was aware of the raven’s hookup from a few nights ago. The blonde straightened his composure, holding his posture with pride as he defended his band member’s dignity. “In my opinion, they don’t hold a match to him.”

“Excuse me?”

As frustrated as he was becoming, Craig couldn’t help but jolt a little when Kenny jumped off his stool and jabbed a finger into the raven’s chest.

“Let me just get straight to the point. I have nothing against you, Tucker, but I’m _very_ aware of your reputation. Because of this, I am _not_ going to have Tweek partake in temporarily filling the void in your lonely heart all because of the yellow hair on his head and the thing in between his legs.”

Craig’s mouth went dry and his fingertips went numb as they started trembling. Everything Kenny had stated wasn’t twisted in any way. The noirette did indeed have a reputation for his countless hookups, and not once considered committing to a relationship with any of them. The fact that the blonde before him had voiced the truth out loud made Craig wince, but I guess he needed to hear it loud in order to acknowledge his flaws.

Kenny sighed as he slumped back into his stool, casting the raven a sympathetic gaze.

“Look, if you genuinely like him, then go for it. Hell, I’ll even support it! Tweek deserves to be happy!”

Craig flashed a thankful smile before that judgmental finger flew back in the air to point at him.

“But don’t you fucking _dare_ break his heart, because he doesn’t need anymore of that shit in his life.”

Craig was speechless. Now he _really_ was reconsidering going to this event, let alone seeing Tweek again. What if this _was_ merely just infatuation? The pianist seemed like such a lost soul, seeking out some form of . Craig couldn’t bare tainting such a perfect image , especially if it meant Kenny would slit his throat in his sleep if he even considered it.

“I…-”

“Our lord and savior has arrived!”

Craig was interrupted by Kenny’s sudden change of attitude, peering upwards instead of finishing his sentence to see what the blonde next to him was so excited about. Sure enough Red returned with a tray of pale ales in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other, Clyde (who had just finished up his smoking break) trailing behind her with the men’s dinner. The four conversed over a brief meal, which mostly consisted of Craig joking about Red on the brink of alcoholism (to which she replied with the Tucker family’s signature middle finger). When both plates were spotless, Kenny nudged the raven’s shoulder.

“I like you, Tucker, so I’ll give you a chance.” The dirty blonde finally admitted, tugging him off the stool as he made his way towards the exit. “Come on.”

“Wha-?”

“Do you want to see Tweek or not?”

Kenny didn’t give Craig a chance to reply for they were already pacing down the city sidewalk, heading in the complete opposite direction of the noirette’s apartment.

Seeing Tweek? _Already?_ Today must have been a record for him, because Craig was flustered for the umpteenth time today over this one potential confrontation. Where were they going? What would he do? _Say?_ God, why did Craig care so much?!?

Craig was so lost in constructing scenarios for the evening in his head that he was surprised to see how far they’d gone. There was a cafe in sight, its beige cream paint glistening in the golden rays of the day. The tiny establishment huddled despondent among the huge city buildings. Hundreds of people rushed by it, outside on the crowded street. By day the cafe is the color of supermarket oranges; it has that shiny plaster look, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee shrouds the building. Craig inhaled sharply, sucking in the air that carried a hint of dampness and lacked the heavy pollution of the day traffic.

The noirette rested his hand on the rough paintwork that coats the door and pushed, greeted by the soft jingle of the bell above and the sound of  “Sunday Morning” playing quietly in the background of the cafe.

The half a dozen customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of cold wind. Unlike the outside, the interior of the café was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colorful walls. The patrons return to their conversations as the door swung closed behind the new entrants and the frigid breeze was forgotten.

Craig’s eyebrows knitted into an expression of contemplation. “Why do I feel like I’ve been in here before-?”

“What’s this? Craig Tucker in _my_ cafe? It must be a miracle!”

The raven’s question was answered instantly as he gaped at the woman before him, her twin brunette braids curling over her shoulders as she approached the duo with open arms.

Karen McCormick.

* * *

“So, after playin’ with the girls for a bit, afterwards I was thinkin’ we could leave the set list up to the guests, that way we have more of a variety!”

Butters and Tweek sat across from one another in a corner booth in the cafe. The two quietly sipping on piping hot cups of coffee as they arranged their performance properly for the venue that night.

Tweek chewed on the inside of his lip as the pace of his tapping foot accelerated. “But we should have a backup set list, just in case there’s something I can’t play.”

“Oh come on Tweekers, what _can’t_ you play?” Butters giggled. “Besides, you know people aren’t gonna be very clever with requests.”

“St-Still!”

“Tweek, I’ve never seen you get so riled up about playing the piano. And it’s with Wendy and Bebe. You love those two!” Butters narrowed his eyes out of both concern and suspicion, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Is somethin’ bothering you? Or… _someone?”_

Tweek almost spat out his coffee, Butters grinning proudly as he struck a chord with the blonde before him. The pianist clawed anxiously at the mug before him, biting his lip as a salmon hue tinted his cheeks.

“Do you ever get the feeling someone is watching you?” Tweek eyes widened as soon as he realized what he said, waving his hands desperately towards both the misunderstanding and the raise of Butters’ eyebrow. “N-Not in a bad way, though!”

“I just… last night, when I was looking over the crowd, I was able to make out one person who wasn’t just listening to the music like everyone else. He was… staring right at me, like he was acknowledging the musician behind the performance.”

Tweek sunk into the cushioned seat beneath him, a dreamy haze clouding his eyes. A goofy smile crept upon his lips, and Butters couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It was an amazing feeling, honestly…”

Tweek’s blush seared through his cheeks and for a minute he thought his face was on fire. He suddenly felt awkward, demure, and coy; even going as far as attempting to hide his rosy features behind his slim fingers.

“B-But anyways, what if he shows up again? I already told Kenny about it and he said he knew exactly who the guy was… now I definitely can’t disappoint!”

Butters chuckled as the anxious Tweek returned once more. “Ah Tweekers, you could never disappoint-”

 _“What’s this? Craig Tucker in_ **_my_ ** _cafe? It must be a miracle!”_

Both blondes poked their heads out from the sanctuary of their booth, investigating the delighted outburst from their boss. Tweek was about to dismiss the announcement when he saw Karen hugging her brother, until he noticed the tall figure behind Kenny.

Tweek swallowed the knot stuck in his throat as he stared, awestruck by the handsome stranger before him. His appearance alone was seductive, the man's rugged features alluring. His midnight black hair was combed back to reveal more of his carefully structured face. The cold blue eyes he possessed were as deep as the undiscovered depths of the ocean, full of intensity. He had a Roman nose and a thin pair of lips that was in a form of a smirk. His tight jaw was an angular shape that was speckled with a slight stubble. He sported a black t-shirt that outlined his muscular frame, complimented by a denim vest and acid wash jeans.

The blonde chewed on his lip until skin broke. Did God suddenly decide to spoil Tweek’s eyes by gracing him with this man’s presence?

Then Tweek’s eyes dilated with horror as realization struck him like a metal baseball bat. _Wait a minute..._

_Tall, black hair, olive skin, blue eyes._

Yep, it was the same guy.

When those cerulean irises happened to glance over and make direct eye contact with Tweek, the blonde squeaked and shrunk back into the booth. He yanked Butters back with him, tugging on his shirt collar as he whispered into his ear.

“Butters-oh my God, BUTTERS! That’s him, that’s HIM!”

Tweek’s escape was short lived, however, when Craig happened to walk around the corner. As though on cue, both men gasped and pointed at one another like two long lost siblings.

**_“YOU!”_ **

Butters’ bit his lip as he tried to stifle a laugh, excusing himself to join Kenny and Karen. Craig immediately stole his spot, grasping onto Butters’ forgotten mug in order to settle his nerves.

“Wow-just, wow. Here I am, with _the_ pianist! Do you know how amazing it is to actually get to talk to you?

“You’re one to talk!” Tweek snapped back playfully, puffing out his cheeks. “Kenny and Butters’ always had their fanbase. Do you know how it feels to _finally_ have someone appreciate you?”

“Appreciate, huh? That’s a way of putting it.” Craig snickered, wondering if Tweek caught onto his subtle flirting.

“I’m almost always correct when reading people.” Tweek reassured rather proudly. He then leaned over the table, his head cocked sideways like a curious puppy. “Say, are you going to Underground Denver tonight?”

“Uh, is that even a question?” Craig joked, smirking as the blonde’s expression was practically glowing towards the response.

“Perfect, I can’t wait!” Tweek cheered, giving the table a celebratory slap. “Of course, my biggest fan is deserving of a front row seat. Don’t you, gorgeous?”

Now it was the blonde who had returned the flirtatious remark, only this time is was extremely obvious. Tweek's cheeks were suddenly kissed pink like a spring rose, the blooming color adorable against his freckled skin. He quickly averted his gaze and stared at his americano as he gulped the remaining contents from the mug. Craig hung back to allow the blonde time to compose himself, fighting back the smile that wanted so badly to break out.

Meanwhile the raven took the opportunity to look over the pianist now that he was at a closer range. Today his hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, his wavy curls bounding outwards like a bushel of marigolds. A coffee stained apron cloaked his ebony turtleneck sweater, which Tweek had buried his chin into the large collar of. The sight was a bit overwhelming for Craig, both adorable and attractive.

Once Tweek sheepishly returned his attention to the raven, he opened his mouth to apologize, only to be interrupted by a tap on the shoulder by Karen.

“Sorry to cut the honeymoon short, but I need my manager back on the clock.” The young brunette intruded apologetically, gesturing for Tweek to follow her to the back. The blonde nodded, his anxiety finally simmered down as he flash a small smile towards Craig.

“Guess my break is up.” Tweek chuckled, rising from the booth. He tilted his head back towards the noirette, aspiration shimmering in his eyes. “See you tonight?”

Craig simply nodded, blinking repeatedly so as to not get lost in those rich green eyes. “For sure.”

As Tweek jogged towards the back of the cafe, Craig stared longingly as he fled, perhaps even sneaking a peek at him from behind. _So Tweek works here, huh?_ Craig thought to himself. He was _definitely_ going to keep that in mind.

* * *

Where did the day go?

It was already late in the evening by the time Craig made it back to the apartment, slumped against the doorway exhausted. Stan was sprawled out across the couch, tuning Token’s bass while the dark roommate was getting dressed for work. Meanwhile David was experimenting behind their bar setup next door, attempting to make mint juleps for the three of them. Craig didn’t even bother greeting his roommates as he trudged towards David in long strides, prying the ingredients away from the smaller man.

“Dude, you’re doing it wrong.” The raven huffed, ignoring David’s hurt expression. “You don’t just add the seltzer water as soon as you put the mint and sugar in. You have to wait for the leaves to break down, or else you’ll only get a hint of the mint.”

Stan and Token both cast a knowing look at one another. Craig was trying to distract himself, they knew it. Those rosy cheeks weren’t hard to miss at all.

“Damn dude, where the hell have you been? We have an hour before the event starts!” Stan finally piped up. “I take it you convinced Red to let you go with all that time on your hands?”

“Yeah, that, but also…” Craig rubbed the small of his neck awkwardly. “I got to talk to Tweek.”

“No way! Dude, that’s great!” David squealed like a schoolgirl, completely ignoring the beverages he put so much effort into. “Well? Did you two hit it off?”

Craig’s blush only deepened as he recalled Tweek’s enthusiasm. “He’s… actually looking forward to me showing up, said he’d reserve front row seats for us and everything.”

“Seriously?!” David and Stan gasped in unison.

“Yeah! Turns out I wasn’t the only one staring.” The raven chuckled to himself. “He told me it was nice to have someone appreciate his music as much as I did.”

“Appreciate _him_.”  Token corrected. “Craig, he is totally into you!”

Okay, now _that_ broke Craig. The noirette let out a shaky breath that he didn’t even realize was trapped inside of him. He slumped over the bar counter, rummaging his hands through his hair as his forehead pressed against the cold surface of the marble. Christ, this was happening so fast. An interest for some mysterious pianist had developed into something way more serious, and for the first time in a long while, Craig had a crush, and he wasn’t sure if he was disappointed in himself or not. Is that what it was? A crush? God, what a childish term…

Craig was thankful for David at that moment as he slid over the counter and yanked him out of his flustered frenzy.

“Come on, stud, let’s get you dressed into something decent. You have a big night ahead of you!" 

* * *

Inside the venue it was like dancing on the Northern Lights; beneath the dry-ice smoke swirled an array of blues, acid greens, hot pinks and gold. The music played over the dance floor as if had fused with the bodies. Craig and Stan peered across the river of people flowing in, the two women of the night sticking out like a sore thumb to them.

Bebe’s entire stature screamed sexual appeal. Her curly blonde hair masked half of her face as it pooled over her shoulder, concealing one of her smoky shadowed eyes. Her scarlet lips were practically kissing the microphone as she purred out her lyrics in a silky, seductive tone. Back to back, Wendy was pressed against Bebe as she plucked at her cherry red Fender bass. The silky jet black hair she possessed flowed gracefully down to her chest, the purple bandana tied back to reveal her long lashes and purple smile. Both women adorned matching fuchsia jumpsuits, shoulders rubbing and hips swaying to the melody of the song.

_“I like digging holes and hiding things inside them  
_ _When I'll grow old, I hope I won't forget to find them  
_ _'Cause I've got memories and travel like gypsies in the night”_

Hoards of men were hollering, reaching across the edge of the stage like famished hounds. Smirking, Bebe strutted upstage and actually went as far as to step on any hands that dared to brush against her ankles with a high heeled boot. But she didn’t care and she knew they didn’t either, for she was confident enough that her curves and looks were enough to put any man into a trance, whether it was a college kid or some horny old man.

When the song was finished, both women made their way through the crowd, ignoring all the drooling men as they approached Stan and Craig. Wendy in particular was closing in at a much faster pace until she started sprinting, hopping into her boyfriend’s arms and wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Staaan!” Wendy shrieked, laughing as Stan twirled them both around before pressing a heated kiss to her lips. Craig looked away awkwardly as they made out rather fiercely, bouncing on the heels of his feet until the woman pulled away and greeted the neglected raven with a hug.

“Hey Craig! I’m so glad you could make it”

“You brought Craig?” Bebe squealed as she hugged Craig alongside Wendy, backing away swiftly afterwards as she folded her arms. “Hell, if I knew that, he could’ve brought a guest too!”

Craig snorted, for he knew very well the blonde was referring to Clyde.

“Well, you made it just in time for Kenny’s group! They should be setting up right about- NOW!” Wendy pointed back towards the stage, and sure enough Butters and Kenny were in sight and already in position to start. Craig’s eyes roamed over a certain pianist that glided across the stage towards a concealed piano, and suddenly the room seemed to be too hot for comfort.

_Oh fuck._

Tweek’s hair was French braided until it reached the ponytail holder, where his hair spewed out of the band in an array of untamed golden waves. His honeydew-colored flannel was hidden beneath a denim jacket, which draped slightly over _incredibly_ tight white skinny jeans. He even went the extra mile by painting on black wings on his eyelids, matching Kenny’s eyeliner.

Craig swallowed hard. Was Tweek even aware of the sheer power he possessed over him?

Giggling among one another, the girls glanced at Craig’s flushed expression before returning to the stage themselves. Wendy and her bass stood alongside Butters with his tenor saxophone, while Bebe marched up to the microphone stand. She poked the windscreen with an acrylic nail, the loud _tap_ capturing everyone’s attention.

“Good evening, everyone!~ And welcome to Underground Denver!” The blonde woman boomed, her sultry voice alone causing an uproar. She giggled at the excitement before continuing. “Now, before we begin, don’t forget to fill out a slot in the request book in front of the stage! Our lovely pianist here will be the one to select a handful of you lucky winners’ songs!”

Bebe nodded towards to Tweek, who returned the gesture before removing the tarp from the piano. A gasp was stuck in his throat from the stunning structure before him.

It was a grand piano molded to the center left of the stage; all shiny, pitch black until the pianist lifted the fall. The row of pure ivory keys march into view, shimmering in the sparkling stage light as if they are the moon on a starry night; bright, beautiful, and breathtaking. And the sound they created as Tweek tested the notes - oh the music they sing, stirs wonders in the blonde’s soul.  
  
It was a one of a kind, that piano.

As Tweek took his seat in front of the giant instrument, Craig immediately grabbed Stan’s wrist and dragged him through the heavy crowd before them. Sure enough, a sofa in the front had remained reserved and untouched, the cushions labelled “Stan the Man” and “Craig Fucker.” What made the signs even funnier was the fact that they were written in perfect cursive handwriting. Before seating himself, however, Craig glanced back at the request book that was now completely swarmed.

“Hang on.” Craig shouted above the wall of noise towards Stan, who simply shrugged as sprawled out across his luxurious seat.

Craig swam through the crowd of people until he managed to reach the book, rolling his eyes at all the generic song choices that had been jotted down. Nothing unique, nothing creative. Tweek was too good of a musician to play something that has already been rinsed and repeated a multitude of times.

Then again, Craig couldn’t come up with anything clever off the top of his head… but who said he had to choose the song?

Tearing out the corner of the page, Craig quickly scribbled on the scrap of paper before folding it and tucking it into the crease of the book. Tweek noticed this out of the corner of his eye, but dismissed it right away and continued on with the song.

_“When the night comes with the action_   
_I just know it's time to go_   
_Can't resist the strange attraction_   
_From that giant dynamo_   
_Lots to take and lots to give_   
_Time to breathe and time to live”_

Tweek gazed upon the crowd. There must have been at least one hundred people watching him, bathing in the dim purple light of the venue. Nerves were trying to take over his body, but it encouraged him to persist through the performance. His heart kept time with the drums, pumping the music through his veins as he lost himself in the performance. Eventually, Tweek lost all sense of everything except for the music. Smiling broadly, the blonde whipped his head back to face the keys as he sang along until the very end.

Once the the performance came to a gradual halt, Bebe signaled for Tweek to retrieve the custom set list. The two girls hopped off the stage and bounded towards Craig and Stan, seating themselves in laps of their respective man. Sighing, Tweek averted his gaze from the front as he continued to thumb through the pages. What was it going to be tonight? “Sweet Caroline?” “Don’t Stop Believin’?” As he proceeded to flip through the book, a slip of folded paper fluttered out and caught his eye. Tweek captured it before it could hit the ground, unfolding it in order to read its contents.

The words on the paper had completely sucked the air right out of the blonde’s lungs.

**_This is your night. Play whatever comes to mind._ **

**_~CT_**

Tweek cupped a hand over his mouth as his head whipped back up to face the audience, his eyes instantly settling on Craig. The raven simply offered a reassuring smile and nodded, to which the pianist lowered his quivering hand and reciprocated the exact same smile. Before any tears could threaten to spill forth, Tweek exhaled heavily as he turned back to the piano. As soon as his fingers began prancing across the keys, Butters and Kenny cast each other an acknowledging look as they knew exactly when to come in. The pianist tilted his head towards the sky as he gradually closed his eyes, the lyrics surging through his veins.

_“The lights go out and I can't be saved_   
_Tides that I tried to swim against_   
_Have brought me down upon my knees_   
_Oh I beg, I beg and plead, singing  
_   
_“Confusion that never stops_   
_The closing walls and the ticking clocks gonna_   
_Come back and take you home_   
_I could not stop, that you now know, singing”_

Craig shifted in his seat, Bebe sliding over in order to allow the man to stand up. The noirette made his way towards the stage in large, slow strides, propping his elbows on the edge of the stage as he rested his chin in his hands. His half-lidded eyes gazed fondly at the pianist that was only a few feet away from him, the same sentiment reflected in Tweek’s green orbs as he peered down for a brief moment.  
  
_“Come out upon my seas_  
 _Cursed missed opportunities am I_  
 _A part of the cure_  
 _Or am I part of the disease, singing”_

Craig parted his lips, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word. He was speechless, breathless. It was just that simple: the pianist before him never ceased to amaze him, and he never will. The noirette’s were glued to the pianist at that moment, and he wished it could be permanent. The prospect of promise that shone in Tweek’s eyes and the melancholy lyrics that slipped so smoothly off the blonde’s tongue may have been an act for confirmation, but in reality it was a cry for help. Tweek’s facade was quite transparent to Craig, and he wanted so desperately to be the one to remove the mask and introduce him to real happiness.

 _“Home, home, where I wanted to go_ _  
_ _Home, home, where I wanted to go”_

Tweek gaped down at Craig for the final time that night, his gaze intense and pleading. His eyes were begging for some kind of gratification, _yearning_ for the raven’s approval.

Amazement doesn't quite cover it. Craig felt like someone had just took his spark of wonder and drowned it in kerosine. The smile plastered on the outside couldn’t adequately reflect what he felt inside; it was like every neuron of the raven’s brain was trying to fire in both directions at once - the best kind of paralysis.

It was at this moment where Craig remembered Kenny’s question from earlier, closing his eyes as he didn’t take long to ponder on the answer.

_“Say, do you think Tweek’s cuter than Gary? Chris? Bradley? In my opinion, they don’t hold a match to him.”_

He was right. Tweek was definitely not a Gary. Or a Chris. Or a Bradley.

No, he’s something _way_ more special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 200 hits for the first chapter? You guys have no idea how happy that makes me! Thank you so much! All this support generated in such a short period of time has left me speechless, and I wish there was someway I could repay you all individually.
> 
> I apologize for the wait, so take this chapter that is almost double in length! It's more dialogue-based this time, so I hope you guys don't mind~ Thank you for reading and any feedback is greatly appreciated!
> 
> ~editing is underway, please excuse any mistakes you may come across~


	3. Fire of Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is almost 8,000 words worth of me being immature. Enjoy~
> 
> I'd also like to give a shout out to krmr-rkgk for the fanart she did for secret creek week. I friggin love your art, Satori! <3
> 
> Songs for this chapter:  
> "You're The One That I Want" by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John  
> "Conga" by Miami Sound Machine

“Lie on your back, knees bent, feet flat on the floor, hips distance apart. Bring your attention to your natural breath and just observe. Is it smooth and slow, or is it uneven and quick? Just observe for a few cycles.”

Yoga mats in an assortment of colors were scattered in a grid across the sleek wood floor, bodies pressed against the thin cushions as their resting expressions softened with their breathing. The yoga instructor, Nichole Daniels, roamed around the studio as she examined her attendees, stopping before a particular blonde male student.

Well, the _only_ male in her class.  

Unaware of his own heart beating or the rise and fall of his chest, Tweek began to drift into a semi-consciousness. The drone of the cars outside was merely a lullaby, his own breathing a symphony. An essential oil diffuser shrouded the room in a thin veil of mist from a corner of the room, the scent of vanilla and lavender stimulating the blonde’s nostrils as he practiced his slow breathing. He was so lost in thought that even the scalding camomile tea in his thermos had long gone cold.

Tweek must’ve sensed his instructor’s presence, for when he barely lifted his eyelids, a frizzy ebony bun and gold hoop earrings greeted him with a sincere smile. The blonde returned the black beauty’s friendly gesture, jade eyes casting a warm glow towards hazel.

“Now I want you all to come into a comfortable seated position. Take a moment here to focus on your intention for today’s practice.”

As Tweek raised his back off the floor, he took a moment to reacquaint himself with his surroundings. He was reminded of the vast female audience that consumed the atmosphere, but he appreciated the neighborly femininity. He shot a glance towards Wendy and Bebe on either side of him before returning his gaze to the yoga teacher who was now at the front of the class. Nichole pushed the lilac bandana on her head aside to reveal a Bluetooth headset, her eyebrows knitted in frustration as she anxiously tapped the metallic bit burrowed in her ear. When her eyes captured Tweek’s stare, the blonde instantly prepared to aid his teacher - no, _friend_ \- however he could as soon as she trotted over.

Nichole knelt down before the blonde, capturing his hands in her own as she brought her voice down to a whisper. “Tweek, I have to take a call. Do you think you could take over for me?” The instructor pleaded, to which Tweek responded with a nod as he rubbed gentle, reassuring circles into the palms of her hands.

“Thanks hun, you’re America’s sweetheart!” Nichole kissed Tweek’s cheek with gratitude before rising to stand, straightening her posture as she clapped for the class’ attention. “Alright, I will now be turning over to Tweek for the remainder of this class to shift over into yin yoga.”

As soon as Nichole exited the studio, Tweek jogged up to the front and planted himself onto their previous instructor’s mat.

“Hello everyone!” The blonde greeted, earning a dreamy _“hi Tweek~”_ from all the women in the room. Tweek was well aware of his status as the girls’ favorite, and he’d be lying if he admitted he didn’t take pride in being the lone attractive gay man of the class.

“This yin yoga sequence will help you practice self-love.” Murmurs were exchanged throughout the entire studio. “Now I’m sure you’ve all heard this before: that loving oneself is the most important thing. It’s the first step to being able to love someone else and truly be happy.” Tweek began wandering around the room, fingers laced together as he began preaching to his new disciples. “But how exactly do you do it? How do you stop all these nagging thoughts telling you that you are not good enough?”  
  
Tweek halted right before Wendy and kneeled down, lightly placing his hand on her shoulder as though he were a motivational speaker. “The following sequence will help you to open your heart and release, because practicing yoga is releasing; it’s peeling away all the emotions, fears and judgments you have buried deep inside yourself. It’s connecting to what’s really true. When we peel everything away, what are we left with is our true essence – love!”

Dramatic applause erupted throughout the entire studio. Wendy fluttered her eyes and sighed jokingly as she fanned herself, earning a wolf whistle from Bebe in response. Tweek couldn’t help but chuckle towards the girls’ enthusiasm as he returned to the yoga mat up front and dropped to his knees.   
  
“First up is the Anahatasana.”

As soon as the blonde lowered his head to the floor, a devilish grin spread across Bebe’s lips. Wendy couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as she watched her best friend hop up from her mat.

“What are you doing?” Wendy questioned softly.

“I’m taking a ‘water break.’” Bebe answered loud enough for Tweek to hear, gesturing with air quotes before lowering her own volume. “You’ll see.”

The raven girl could only nod with confusion as she watched the blonde retreat to the other side of the room, staring as she rummaged through her purse and yanked out her phone.

* * *

“Hey Craig, did you already check the beer taps?”

“Yeah, they’re all good to go.”

Red and Craig were the only individuals currently residing in the tavern, the lack of customers during the crack of dawn giving them ample time to check their stock and equipment. Their tasks were going by rather fluently and quietly until the redhead’s phone began to buzz uncontrollably in her jean pocket.

“Christ, who is it at this hour?” Red growled with irritation, eyebrows curled with puzzlement as she checked the caller i.d. before picking up. “Bebe? What do you-”

_“Do me a favor and hand the phone to Craig, quickly. I tried calling him, but I’m pretty sure that lanky bastard left his phone on silent.”_

“Why do you need Craig?-” Red began as she pulled the phone away from her ear, but instantly zipped her lips as soon as her eyes came in contact with the image on her screen. Cupping a hand over her mouth to stifle her obnoxious laughter, the redhead complied with Bebe’s wishes and called back for her cousin.

“Oh Craig dear, could you take this call for me real quick?”

Craig emerged from the supply closet, eyebrows furrowed with suspicious curiosity as he approached Red. The redhead dangled the phone in a loose grip, to which her cousin reached out tentatively for. As soon as the mobile device was in the noirette’s grasp, Red escaped the scene with a sly _“appreciate it!~”._ Craig could only roll his eyes as he proceeded to raise the phone up to his ear, but not before being distracted by the image on the screen before him - Tweek on all fours, stomach pressed to the ground with his ass poking up high in the air.

He wheezed and almost choked on the air.

_“This is a nice backbend for the upper and middle back that opens the shoulders and softens the heart. On your hands and knees, walk your hands forward, allowing your chest to drop towards the floor. Keep your hips right above your knees.”_

Saying Craig was just staring nonstop at the sight before him is an understatement. He was practically _drooling;_ he had the attitude of a panting dog desperately in need of a pail of water. Before, Tweek was an epitome of radiance and grace that Craig admired. But after ogling at the provocative display before him, the raven could only groan helplessly in the back of his throat. How could such a beautiful man be capable of being so _filthy_ and not even acknowledge it?

Craig could only gulp dryly as his eyes ravaged every detail on the screen. Tweek sported a turquoise longline tank-top that loosely fell down the blonde’s stomach as he dipped down, revealing his ribcage and midriff. Tweek was always dressed in layers whenever Craig encountered him, so it was a pleasant change to experience just how slim and fit the blonde really is. The noirette even took note of Tweek’s exposed arms, one of the toned limbs decorated with a tattoo sleeve. On it a ceramic mug of coffee was bubbling with steam, which morphed into sunflowers towards the top that danced along his shoulder; Craig couldn’t take his eyes at the side of Tweek that expressed such artistic creativity. But then he was reminded of the gray yoga pants that were casting a spell on his di-

_“You’re staring, Tucker.”_

Craig was instantly snapped out of his stupor and narrowed his eyes accusingly at the camera.

“Why the fuck did you call in the first place?!”

 _“Well, you two haven’t seen each other in almost two weeks, so I deemed it necessary to take the opportunity when available.”_ Bebe purred, zooming in on Tweek’s butt. _“Speaking of which, just look at that ass! Isn’t it perfect?”_

Yes. Yes it was- _fuck_ , it was such a nice ass. It was the definition of a perfect bubble butt; round and firm and muscular with a hint of a jiggly softness. The blonde’s yoga pants left nothing to the imagination, outlining the gorgeous hump from the plump cheeks to the crack in the center. Craig could even see the indents of dimples through the fabric.

At this point, Craig didn’t care that yoga was about seeking inner peace and shit. All that mattered was the pianist he had been obsessing over all week was bent over like he was begging to be rammed from behind, his ass on display like a freshly baked pastry. The noirette proceeded to slide down the wall in order to sit down, awkwardly folding his legs as Tweek continued to drone on in the video.  
  
_“Now let us shift into the sphinx pose. This will help stimulate-”_ a sharp inhale “- _your sacral-lumbar arch and tone the spine. Lie down on your belly. Clasp your elbows with the opposite hands and move the elbows just ahead of your shoulders, propping yourself up. Notice how it feels in your lower back and adjust your position accordingly. If the sensations are too strong,-”_ a trembling exhale _“-move your elbows further away from your body, lowering your chest closer to the floor.”_

Bebe must’ve read the viewing pleasure in Craig’s intense gaze and lip chewing, for she switched to the front-view camera to reveal her shit-eating grin from a comedic angle below her chin.

“Hey, what the hell?!”  
  
“ _He’s about to do the child’s pose. I figured that would be too boring for you.”_

“Are you kidding me?-” Craig spat before biting down on his tongue once he realized just how eager and impatient he sounded.  
_  
_ Bebe ignored Craig, staring ahead at the instructor that the raven could no longer see.

“Butterfly is next. That’s a little better, but not too wild-”  
_  
_ _“This is one of my favorite poses because it’s_ **_such_ ** a great stretch for your hamstrings.”

There was moment of silence until Bebe smacked her lips amusingly.

_“...ok, maybe I was wrong.”_

Craig snapped. “BEBE.”

However, Craig’s outburst did not prepare him for Tweek’s next choice of words.   
  
_“Next, we will be entering the straddle pose.”_

Oh no.  
_“This will open your hips, groin, and the back of your thighs.”_

 **Oh** **_no._ **

_“Now don’t push yourself, only go as deep as what feels right for you. To get into this pose, spread your legs apart and fold forward, resting your weight on your hands or elbows.”_

**Fuckfuckfuck** **_fuckfUCK_ **

Bebe had Craig in a vice grip, and she was clearly aware of that. Switching the camera back, the blonde woman zoomed back onto Tweek as he began to extend both legs on either side of him. She scanned the pianist’s pose painfully slow: the way he drifted towards the floor and tilted back up in one fluent motion, the way his back posture was curved like a cat, the way he leaned forward until he was _literally_ straddling the floor, the way his eyes fluttered shut as he basked in the stretch of his horizontally prolonged legs, the way that one particular bead of sweat strolled down his temple and past his pretty pink lips, parted as he adjusted his breathing-

 **_“Hnngh-!”_ ** Craig grunted as he chucked the phone across the room, gasping for air as he watched the device smack against the wall with a loud _CRACK_ and drop to the floor afterwards. The noirette took a moment to catch his breath before he shot up from the ground to scoop up the phone, carefully inspecting it for any damage. Thank God for Otterboxes.

And thank God the session was ending.

_“-and finally, we will end this exercise with the Shavasana.”_

Craig was an utter mess. The color that flushed in his cheeks rivaled that of a tomato; his entire face was tinted a cherry red while his cheeks were flooded with a deep maroon. The raven was panting, trembling, and grinding his teeth, both in anger and humiliation. He was incredibly embarrassed, and part of the blame was directed towards the _raging boner that was bulging from his jeans._

Craig prayed to a higher power that Red didn’t barge in at this exact moment. After all, he did chuck her prized possession into a fucking concrete wall. Unfortunately for him, that higher power didn’t adhere to his prayers and decided it was the best time for Red to retreat from whatever rock she was buried under during the entire call.

“Jesus Craig, it’s a phone not a dick so quit beating on it!” The redhead shouted menacingly from outside the closet. “If there’s so much as a lick of splooge on it, I’ll slice your nuts off and serve them to you in a martini glass!”

Sure, Red didn’t walk in (hallelujah), but Craig was still completely petrified. He was absolutely horrified not by the fact that Red heard him launch her phone like a damn projectile, but that she basically called him out on sinking his head way too far into the gutter.

It certainly didn’t help that Bebe was laughing violently on the other end.

_“Damn Craig, you really need to squeeze one out that bad huh? You are such a dog!”_

It was at that moment that both recipients were caught off guard. The other end went completely void of noise, except for the questioning tone of a particular pianist.

_“Bebe?”_

**_Oh shit._ **

_“Busted!”_ Craig could hear Bebe admit defeat in a sing-song voice.

However, there was no anger or embarrassment on Tweek’s behalf. Instead, Craig could hear the faint sound of the blonde bursting into laughter.

 _“What poor straight soul did you taint with my session this time?”_ Tweek snickered, and Craig could feel his heart lurch into his throat as he plucked Bebe’s phone from her hand. _“Please excuse my colleague, I promise she’ll sleep with you as an apology-”_

Bebe had switched the camera back to the front at the last possible second, so Craig had a perfect view of Tweek’s face. As soon as both men made eye contact, Tweek had reciprocated Craig’s previous reaction; his face was completely void of color until the red heat of embarrassment started to flood his cheeks, tinted a dark maroon as his eyes dilated with horror and his lips parted as he struggled to form any structure of a sentence. The friendly atmosphere that had once been established instantly shattered as everyone was speechless.

Then they shouted in unison.

**_“SHIT!”_ **

The last thing Craig saw before he hung up was the screen shaking with a barrage of blurred colors as Tweek dropped the phone. Without another word Craig pocketed his cousin’s phone, blinking repetitively as he coughed awkwardly. The raven took a moment to just sit in silence, contemplating over the previous event that had just occurred.

Well, more specifically, adding more to his list on what made Tweek the perfect human being.

Tweek did yoga. Tweek played the piano masterfully. Tweek did yoga. Tweek had the voice of an angel. Tweek did yoga. Tweek had the body of a goddess. Tweek did yoga. _Tweek did yoga._

But the most important lesson learned today?

Tweek did yoga.

 _And yoga means flexibility._ Craig thought, biting his lip as numerous dirty thoughts shrouded his mind’s eye. _Oh yeah,_ **_definitely_ ** _remembering that._

* * *

“In the spirit of keeping our hearts open, I would like to share my intention with you today: to honor each woman in this room for sharing this experience with me. I have learned from all of you, and I am grateful for the gift of your presence as we all have grown and deepened our knowledge of yoga in its many forms.”

Tweek pressed his palms together in the form of a prayer posed and bowed before his students, to which the women repeated. After bidding their farewells, the blonde sank to the ground and decided to meditate while everyone else packed up to leave. Bebe in particular tried to make a sneaky escape, but Tweek was faster at grabbing her ankle and tripping her in the process.

“You better have an explanation for earlier.” He hissed without budging from his stance, opening one eye in the process to glare threateningly at the sly woman sprawled out on the floor. Wendy couldn’t help but snicker towards the petty encounter.

“You’re in for it now, Bebe.”

“C’mon you guys, I do shit like this every other week!” Bebe pouted, propping her her elbows up so she could rest her chin in her hands. “What’s the difference this time around?”

Wendy raised her hand slightly. “The guy you called has Tweek buckling at the knees?”

“Correction! The _gay_ guy I called has Tweek buckling at the knees.” Bebe revised with a satisfying smack of her lips.

Tweek could only scoff. “Pssh, yeah. _Okay._ ”

“Please, I knew that boy was gay that moment I showed him my boobs.”

Both Wendy and Tweek slowly turned towards their blonde companion in unison, harsh judgement painted all over their faces.

“What? Oh come on!” Bebe flailed her arms around in the air defensively. “You guys know damn well that I’m a very simple creature with very simple tastes. If I see an attractive guy, you can bet I’m gonna to flip a titty to pique his interest.”

When her two colleagues didn’t appear to be phased, Bebe merely rolled her eyes. “Guys. Look at me. I’m _smoking_ **_hot_ ** .” The blonde gestured towards her curvaceous features pridefully. “If I couldn’t get his attention, then no other female specimen on this fucking planet can. But _you,_ Tweek…”

Bebe skipped over to Tweek and playfully smacked his behind, earning a snort from the blonde. “You’re undeniably smokin’, the poster boy for all twinks,” she leaned in and added with a whisper, “and _that_ got Craig muthafuckin’ Tucker’s attention.”

Tweek only folded his arms, chewing on the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from expressing his amusement.

“Meaning…?”

“Tweek, I could hardly see his screen ‘cuz he was drooling all over it!” Bebe shook the blonde male before her in an attempt at a wake up call before sighing knowingly. “What I’m saying is that the fine slice of ass known as Craig Tucker has a major boner for you, Tweek Tweak.”

“As an expert on the male anatomy, I can guarantee you a boner is nothing serious.” Tweek argued with a side smirk, the smug smile stuck on his face only further proving he couldn’t mask all of his pride. “I can practically smell all the lady boners when I’m in the studio, let alone in public. After all, I _am_ the perfect twink.”

“So cocky and confident, I love it!” Wendy butted in, snaking an arm around to support her friend currently wheezing with laughter. “No wonder Craig has a crush on you.”

“Hmm, I’m not so sure about that.” Tweek denied with mock naivety. “You guys really think so?”

“Oh honey,” Bebe sighed, casting a keen look as she rested her hand upon Tweek’s shoulder.  “Mama Stevens doesn’t think. She _knows.”_

* * *

Craig leaned against the brick wall, one hand clasping the toe of his worn down navy Converse. From his position he had a perfect view of the entrance, eyes trailing after strangers meandering idly by the bar. The raven let himself soak in the ambient music for a few moments, closing his eyes as he replayed the lyrics in his head while drinking in the fragranced air through flared nostrils.

It hadn’t been long since Bebe texted the raven and he was already double checking his phone for the umpteenth time. The words _“we’re on our way”_ in bold print were enough to make Craig anxious. That one phrase could mean anything; sure, it could just be Bebe and Wendy, but there was high probability that Tweek was involved in the group. Based on their previous interaction, this future encounter possessed an unknown power that frightened Craig.

So there he sat, nonchalantly pressed against the wall doing absolutely nothing thanks to the bar being practically empty during morning hours, and he was nervous about some stupid text. As soon as his eyes opened, the maid of honor appeared in all of her glory. Bebe and Wendy exchanged a few words before the blonde nodded and headed inside, the noirette fleeing the scene with her phone pressed to her ear. Craig, however, wasn’t paying attention to the woman currently shimmying out of her snow dusted turtleneck. Instead, his eyes were glued to the other blonde who had followed her into the bar.  
  
Tweek was layered up for the single-digit figures outside, but Craig knew _exactly_ what was underneath (courtesy of Bebe). He cursed under his breath towards the oversized pea coat that draped down to the top of the blonde’s knees, completely masking his slender form. As soon as they made eye contact, the raven smiled warmly and waved them over. Tweek raised his eyebrows in what Craig prayed was a signal of pleasant surprise as he scurried from behind the bar counter to usher away any customers blocking his view. The two blondes graciously accepted the empty stools, Bebe hopping into her spot while Tweek sat with heavy awkwardness.

“Christ, quit molesting Tweek with your eyes.” Bebe grumbled, snapping her fingers in command for a drink. Craig just rolled his eyes and scoffed, reaching under the counter for a bottle of schnapps and pouring both blondes a glass.

Despite Bebe’s snarky remark, Craig couldn’t pry his eyes away from Tweek. He could only continue to stare at the man who was currently looking away from him, taking in every little detail in his face while he was distracted. His cheekbones, his full lips, his pale skin, everything he didn’t get a good glimpse of in the video… God, he just wanted to eat him up. There was just something so sexy in that vulnerable look of his… wait-

“Um, you’re leaking…”

Craig didn’t pay attention to Tweek’s head turning back, green eyes following the movement to gaze towards the noirette, then down to his glass with a look of concern. The words didn’t register in Craig’s mind until he felt something drip onto his shoes. Both the blonde’s words and the substance pooling by his feet caused heat to erupt in his cheeks, eyes dilated in horror as his mind once again plunged into the gutter. Peering down, he couldn’t help but sigh when he spotted the schnapps overflowing in the second glass from his dumbass still pouring the bottle’s contents into it. _Thank fuck it wasn’t something else…_

Spewing obscenities, Craig retreated to the backt to fetch a towel and pat himself dry. When he returned, his flustered behavior returned when he spotted Tweek still burning holes into him with those green orbs of his. He shrugged off the embarrassment with a reassuring smile, but Tweek had noticed the shock register on Craig’s face before he could hide it. It's silent for a moment; he's waiting for a response but the raven wasn't focusing on him anymore. As Craig blushed, Tweek’s look of bafflement quickly phased into a shy smile; he must get this a lot.

Bebe could only laugh towards the exchange. “Oh my God, that was fucking hysterical! What is your superpower, Tweek?”

Tweek narrowed his eyes towards his companion, remembering exactly _how_ and _why_ the atmosphere between them was so awkward. Clearing his throat, Tweek proceeded to cast Craig an apologetic look.

“I guess I should apologize properly for my… _-ahem-_ colleague-”

“No, I’m not going to sleep with her.”

Now it was Tweek’s turn to laugh. Cupping his hand over his face to muffle his snorts, he couldn’t help but wheeze from the memory of what he said on Bebe’s phone before acknowledging Craig’s presence. _Fuck,_ that was so embarrassing.

Craig let a few chuckles escape from his system as well. He couldn’t resist; Tweek was one adorable motherfucker when he laughed. “No offense, though,” Craig turned his attention towards Bebe, “it’s just that I swing for the same team.”

“HA! Told ya!” Bebe pointed at Tweek, her shoulders wiggling in victory. This earned a kick to the shin.

“Ow-fuck!” She whined. “C’mon, are you just cranky ‘cuz my dick is bigger than yours?”

Another kick.

Now Craig was shaking with genuine laughter, teeth and gums showing and everything. The sight of Bebe pouting as Tweek glared at her like a rebellious child was pathetic yet oh so amusing. _Oh Tweek, you just keep making me like you more and more._

Shaking his head, Craig handed the blondes their drinks before folding his arms. “All jokes aside, what brings you two here?”

“Hate to break it to ya, hotface, but I’m not here for you.” Bebe replied, massaging her battle wounds. “Where’s Daddy Donovan?”

As though on cue, Clyde’s head popped out from behind the island in the back.

“Present!”

“Christ, you always- _always_ respond to that fucking name.” Craig muttered incredulously under his breath before returning his attention back to the two blondes before him. “Lucky for you, he just got in literally five minutes before you two walked in.”

“Yippie!” Bebe chirped, clapping excitedly to herself. She proceeded to hop onto the counter and bat her eyelashes innocently, her sandals dangling from her feet as she rotated her ankles playfully.  “Clyde, my sweet, won’t you be a gentleman and treat a pretty lady to a night of karaoke?”

Going along with her act, Clyde took Bebe’s hand in a polite fashion and kissed it. “It would be an honor, m’lady.”

Tweek could only tilt his head with genuine curiosity. “Karaoke? Where?”

“Every other Friday, Red hosts a karaoke night here at the tavern.” Craig informed. “If it gets crazy enough, she’ll even throw in a dance-off for the hell of it.”

Then, after a brief moment of word association, Bebe gasped. “Tweek! You love to dance!”

Tweek only shrugged, earning a scowl from his blonde companion.

“Don’t give me that shit, you’re going!” Bebe growled, whipping her head to face Craig. “Craig, you’ll save a dance for our little lemon drop, right?”

Craig smirked, flashing a quick wink in Tweek’s direction. “Only if he makes a reservation.”

Tweek’s eyes widened as a faint blush crept into his cheeks. This man was _definitely_ flirting with him. Biting his lip, Tweek grabbed the napkin from under his drink and fished a pen out of Bebe’s crossbody purse, all without breaking eye contact.

“Well, in that case…” The blonde hummed, scribbling onto the napkin before sliding it over to Craig. “I’ll be there.”

Bebe pumped her fist in the air victoriously before dragging Tweek out of the bar with her, leaving the two bartenders to gawk at the crumpled up napkin. Staring at the inscription, Clyde could only giggle as he watched Craig’s jaw drop.

It was Tweek’s number.

* * *

When it came to karaoke nights, the Red Rum Tavern is the stuff of legend. After all, they receive bonus points for being a karaoke bar without the word “karaoke” in its name. It doesn’t heat up until well after midnight, but when things get going it makes for the perfect, cathartically hammered end to a night out. Performers sing on a real stage in front of real strangers, but the small, dark, and grungy space evokes an intimate experience, and a charismatic singer is capable of riling up support from a good-natured crowd. Perhaps this is why there’s so many weekly regulars who, possibly in direct contradiction of the very ethos of karaoke, actually rehearse routines, complete with dance moves dedicated to those long instrumental breaks.

Red was proud of her setup and took pride in her abilities of going full out with the bar on these types of nights. The lobby is hued with the glow of purple black lights; it’s an ideal space for those who are are prepared for the intensity that comes with belting out a song in front of strangers. The tavern was completely decked out: antique radios artfully arranged along its walls, fat binders full of every song imaginable, a state-of-the-art A/V setup, even little cloth condoms on the microphones so no one catches mouth herpes. It can get pricey, sure, but the longer someone stays, the greater their chances are of being smothered with a platter overflowing with delicious fried finger foods.

Craig was currently helping Scott Malkinson fill pints to the brim with foaming beer to pass out to parched customers, dehydrated from either having a go at karaoke, singing along with the current singer, cheering, or all of the above. Red bravely took on the role as the bar’s designated bouncer, hauling ass if karaoke night didn’t flow smoothly. One’ll have to work hard to earn the respect of the salty bartender; Red is not shy about snatching the microphone away if someone is hogging the queue, taking too long to pick a song, or just bad.

Out of the corner of his eye, Craig spotted the current duo hogging the karaoke machine: Bebe and Clyde. The brunette had to beg Red to give him his break early so he could perform with the blonde beauty, and the way he was rubbing up against his partner proved that his attempts were rather successful. The two were currently belting out to “You’re The One That I Want,” poorly executing the dance from Grease due to their drunken haze. But that didn’t stop them from having a good time, because tonight was a night where insecurity doesn’t exist.

To be honest, there was something a bit strange and derivative about the mad desire to lip-sync along to pop songs and “be a star” for a transitory moment. Craig couldn’t deny the peculiar melancholy of an oft-abused phenomenon, certainly in terms of adult participation. Though in his opinion, the best karaoke is the kind you don’t remember. Because you’re drunk. _Real_ drunk. But the noirette was holding back on his alcohol consumption, because there was a particular blonde in his radar. Being sober was definitely going to improve his chances of not making himself out to be a total dumbass.

With a tray of white rum and two glasses, Craig slipped away from the bar and made his way towards the corner of the room where Tweek silently soaked in the pleasant atmosphere. He was sitting on an isolated couch rather poised, his posture perfect as per usual. The blonde’s attention snapped towards Craig as he put down the tray, raising an inquiring eyebrow as the raven handed him a fancy glass containing yellow shaved ice and a mint garnish.

“Lemon daiquiri?”

“Well, I was just gonna give you a glass of plain ol’ white rum,” Craig explained, swirling the bottle of Bacardi around in his hand, “but then one moment I spot this giant nest of yellow from afar, and the next thing I know I’m pouring our entire stock of lemon juice into this one glass!”

“You’re such an asshat. But I appreciate you thinking about me.” Tweek purred as he took a sip of his beverage, only for his features to morph into one of distaste. “Shit, you really did use every lemon in this, didn’t you? Needs more rum.”

Craig’s eyes widened as he watched Tweek uncap the bottle and dump more of the clear liquid into his glass. “Slow down, we’ve got all night.”

“Aww, it’s cute how you assume I’d be a lightweight.” Tweek cooed, winking slyly as he took a refreshing gulp from his beverage. Craig just rolled his eyes and shrugged off the blonde’s quirky remark.

The next hour of the night consisted of the two bonding over mindless small talk and copious amounts of white rum. Currently the two were sprawled out on the couch, Craig’s arms encompassing the headrest while Tweek was flat on his back with his head resting in the noirette’s lap.

“You’re great on the piano and all, but,” Craig said with a bit of a slur to his voice, “tell me more about the _yoga.”_

Tweek rolled his eyes as he snickered; he should’ve expected this. “Yoga makes me feel so _sexy._ When I move into positions that open my mind and body in ways that I never imagined possible, I feel free.”

Craig bit his lip as he nodded approvingly until Tweek reached up and flicked his nose. “Haha, I knew that’s what you wanted to hear ya dork!”

Tweek ignored the way Craig puffed his cheeks out in a childish scowl. Instead, the blonde scrunched his body upwards so that he propped up against the armrest and continued.

“I guess… I took up on yoga because I wanted to experience another form of balance.” Tweek spoke in a hushed voice, followed by a hiccup. “The word ‘balance’ seems almost overused these days, but it aptly describes that period of time when you're suspended in the moment. It’s a state of harmony. It’s trusting yourself… and that is a beautiful, pure place to be…”

Tweek tilted his head up to peer into Craig’s eyes, his own green jewels glazed over with a veil of contemplation. The noirette could recognize the sincerity in his words, watching his gaze soften as he battled his intoxicated conscious over his sense of judgement. Craig couldn’t help but feel flattered by the fact that Tweek was willing to spill something that was actually personal about himself, even if it was the alcohol talking.

“Creating this… harmony, this… clean state wasn’t exactly easy for me, and it certainly didn’t come naturally.” Tweek sighed quietly, leaning in to the cushion so that he could rest his head in the crook of Craig’s elbow. The raven’s eyelids drooped as he continued to stare at the man now somewhat in his arms, completely mesmerized by the pensive glint in his eye. Without even knowing it himself, Craig’s hand reached over and began to play with the loose strands of hair poking out from Tweek’s bun. _I wonder what he looks like with his hair down…_

Tweek didn’t seem to mind.  
  
“Have you ever found it difficult to let something go,” he muttered, “desperately clinging onto self control?”

Whether the question actually stumped him or the alcohol gushing through his veins robbed him of his voice, Craig found himself lacking an answer. He couldn’t speak, remaining silent with his mouth slightly agape as he peered down at the man below him with anticipation gleaming in his eyes. He could only nod.

“Uh huh…”  
  
“That was me before I began practicing piano, practicing yoga, practicing dance, practicing, well… _assurance.”_ Tweek continued, mindlessly beginning to trace Craig’s jawline. “Both for others and myself.”

Craig could only smile towards the blonde’s words. Leaning back, the raven kept lowering himself until his back came in contact with the armrest, taking Tweek along with him. The pianist was now sandwiched between Craig’s side and the couch cushion, his hand planted on the noirette’s chest to prevent himself from sinking any further. Tweek gasped at the sudden change of position, blushing as he finally acknowledged the arm that had been cradled around him the entire time. Craig’s smile only broadened, continuing to mess with Tweek’s hair.

“We should do this more often.”  
  
Tweek returned his attention back to Craig before facing the dance floor, giggling foolishly to himself. “I agree, though next time I’d recommend a leash for those two-”

Using his unoccupied hand, Craig pinched Tweek’s chin and tilted it up to face him rather aggressively. Tweek’s breath hitched when the raven replied to him in a deep growl, his body shuddering towards the oceanic globes gazing so intensely into his soul.  
  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
  
With an awkward cough, Craig relaxed his dominant stance and offered a shy smile. “Do this. Just this, without them, just-” the raven released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, stroking Tweek’s chin in the process. “Just… us.”  
  
Tweek was speechless. All the hollering and cheering that permeated throughout the bar deafened as the blonde stared at the man hovering above him. The only sound that resonated in his ears was his own quickened heartbeat and the hoarse breathing both men exchanged. After a moment of allowing himself to be flustered, Tweek’s eyes fluttered shut as a smile crept upon his lips. He continued to huddle closer to Craig, basking in the heat that enveloped around him.

“I’d like that.”

The temperature in the room flourished immensely, a dense fog of heat blanketing the two men. Craig’s breathing transformed into rapid puffs out of his nose, eyelids desperately quivering in an attempt to stay open. The hand that gripped Tweek’s chin unraveled itself to tuck a loose hair behind his ear before sliding down to cup his cheek. The blonde’s eyes shot open, his breathing beginning to mimic Craig’s. The red gradient in his cheeks made his facial features stand out more; his eyes blazing suns and his freckles uncharted constellations. Unbeknownst to either of them, both men were gradually leaning closer, never breaking eye contact. Tweek’s hand trembled as it glided up the expanse of Craig’s chest, his luscious lips parting as he tilted his head-

“TWEEEEK!”

_Of fucking course._

_Here she comes, the queen herself._

Bebe jogged sluggishly up to the couch, her eyes round and filled with desperation. Thanks to her intoxicated state, she was completely oblivious to the intimate position both men were in.

“Red is about to start the dance off, but Clyde won’t dance with meeeee!”

Utterly embarrassed, Tweek snapped out of his drunken haze and leapt off of Craig. He switched his gaze from both individuals before him, laughing frantically to himself as he rose shakily from the couch. “How could I say no to that face?”

Bebe squealed and hugged the other blonde. “D’aww, you are such a doll!”

Tweek cast one last longing look towards Craig before being whisked away by Bebe, trailing behind her and into the middle of the lobby. Once they were in their beginning stance, Red instantly played the music and the crowd began to swarm around the pair.

_“Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga_   
_I know you can't control yourself any longer_   
_Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga_   
_I know you can't control yourself any longer”_

On time with the music, Tweek pressed Bebe close to him and began directing their footwork in perfect sync with the tempo. Their feet weaved together flawlessly across the wooden floor, their laced fingers gyrating their arms in unison to complete a well-orchestrated salsa dance. With a few twirls and shimmies thrown in, the audience was going nuts towards the intimate act that was displayed in their movements.

Craig… not so much.

The man was sulking, pissed that Tweek granted Bebe permission to just drag him away from him. With an aggravated huff, the raven snatched the platter and trudged back behind the bar. He uncapped the Bacardi and began to down the drink, ignoring both the harsh burn in his chest and Red’s future scolding.

From his peripherals, Craig spotted Scott staring at him. Instead of being furious about his coworker abandoning him earlier, he only blinked with idle curiosity. His blank expression was beginning to grate on Craig.

“What?!”

“Did I justh watch Bebe Shthevens drag the pianisth onto the dancth floor?”

Before Craig could retort, he felt a gentle pat on his shoulder - unmistakably his cousin ready to belittle him.

“Funny, if Tweek’s gay, then why is he on a date with Bebe?”Craig gritted his teeth and glared at the redhead behind him. “Shut up.”

Clyde accompanied the other side of Craig. “Wow, they’re good.”

Whipping his head towards the other employee, the raven shot him a nasty glare. “You’re just gonna let her run off and dance with him?”

“I don’t mind,” Clyde shrugged, “I told her to do it.”

“What? Why?!” Craig barked.

“I had to motivate you to get on the dance floor somehow.” Clyde shot back, folding his arms as he stared at his mess of a friend. “You two lounging around isn’t exactly going to make this night memorable.”

Craig opened his mouth to argue back, but immediately found himself zipping his lips. Smirking, Clyde offered his hand, to which his raven companion peered down at questioningly..

“C’mon, let’s dance.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s dance!”

“Let’s not-”

Before Craig had a chance to back out, he felt a sharp heel dig into his back and shove him forward. Whirling around, he spotted none other than his persistent bitch of a cousin.

“For fucks sake, take your balls out of your purse or I’ll do it myself and slap you square in the face with them!”

Grumbling in defeat, Craig pouted childishly but accepted Clyde’s hand nonetheless. Red giggled to herself as the duo marched into the mini arena, quickly snatching a spare microphone to make an announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have two new contenders!”

The crowd instantly burst into applause, cheering as the two bartenders made their way into the lobby. Unknown to Craig, Clyde caught Bebe’s glance and delivered a knowing wink. She returned it, signalling the brunette to flip Craig around so that his back was against him. Burying his chin into the crook of the raven’s neck, Clyde closed in to whisper into his ear.

“Have fun.~”

Before Craig could question his motives, both Clyde and Bebe twirled their partners around before giving them a forceful push forward and disappeared into the crowd. Desperately grasping for support, both men discovered wandering hands and pulled each other close; close enough to brush their noses together and drive the audience wild. Tweek’s eyes widened with surprise but instantly softened at the sight of a familiar face.

“Well hello there.”

Not even questioning the sudden outcome, Craig intertwined his fingers with Tweek’s “May I?”

The blonde replied with a giggle, giving the hand in his own a reassuring squeeze. “Take it away.”

 _“Feel the fire of desire, as you dance the night away_ _  
_ _Cause tonight we’re gonna party, 'til we see the break of day”_

The music whirled around them, lifting the gravity away. Craig watched as Tweek’s bun gradually unraveled in its band and bounced more with each movement. It was perfect. This was dancing and art coming to life. Strong pointed moves didn't matter here.   
  
All that mattered was the person in front of you.   
  
So they continued to dance and spin. The lights were twinkling with every step as Craig spun Tweek in delicate circles, the tail of the blonde’s dress shirt billowing out. Tweek loved things like this; the pressure of a warm hand on his back and the feeling of his small agile feet gliding along the floor. He always felt like a small bird learning how to fly, flailing around and finally taking off with outstretched wings and wind swept feathers.

Then, after another twirl, Craig decided to play the bold card as he squeezed Tweek’s thigh and yanked it upwards, hooking the blonde’s leg around his waist. The crowd erupted into a series of whistles, gasps, and suggestive _ooo_ ’s.

“My, my, Tucker.” Tweek giggled, his heel playfully digging into the back of the raven’s knee. “At least take me to dinner first.”

It was as if the stars had aligned accordingly in Craig’s favor. “Well, that _was_ the plan.”

“Oh? Enlighten me.”

“You and me,” he picked up Tweek, “dinner,” spun him around in the air, “Friday night,” flipped him over his back and between his legs, “6 o'clock,” caught him in his arms and leaned him forward, _“sharp.”_

Tweek laughed breathlessly as he dipped backwards and reclined back up, a lazy smile and hooded eyes plastered on his flushed face. He was in a complete trance.

“It’s a date.”

He couldn’t explain it, but those words made it extremely difficult for Craig to swallow the large lump in his throat. Only one thought consumed his mind as he peered down at the expectant man in his arms: _what am I doing?_

Dating was crappy. Craig was sick of telling people about himself only for them to decide he wasn't what they were looking for. If he had to hear “it's not you, it's me” one more time, he was going to hurl. Dedication was always too much of a hassle for the raven, so he always resorted to one-night stands to experience some sort of comfort, even if it was temporary.

But as Craig locked eyes with the emerald jewels before him, it was game over. Tweek would forever be engraved in his mind. He wished this dance would never end; he wanted to hold the blonde just a little longer, stare into his eyes just a little longer, listen to his adorable laughter just a little longer, _be_ with him just a little longer.

"Crush" was such an infantile word, one that must have been invented by older folks with an interest in belittling young love. A crush is nothing more than lusting for someone, and for once Craig hated it. No, he didn't have a fucking crush on Tweek; he was just the one, he knew it. He was all that was on the noirette’s mind these past few weeks. Tomorrow Craig would find a way to talk to him, and then the next day, and then the next. Craig would keep finding ways to confront the blonde until he could finally suck it up and tell him how he felt, then he could crawl out of his emotionless shell for once in his monotonous life.

Sure, Tweek might as well be considered a “crush,” but he could never belong to Craig. That much the raven already knew.

But fuck it.

Tweek had to be the one, he just had to be.

“Yeah… it’s a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. School, work, STRESS, just all that crap in general. But the good news is that I've storyboarded all the other chapters up to chapter 16, so hopefully updates won't take too long! I'm aiming for AT LEAST a bi-weekly update schedule.
> 
> Other than that, thank you so much for everyone's support and patience, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)
> 
> -Editing is underway, please excuse any errors you may come across-


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